The Art of Kaiseki / Ancient culinary ritual takes diners on an odyssey of flavors, testures and colors

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'Ah, honto kirei desu -- how very beautiful!" my mother exclaimed when the waitress brought the first kaiseki course at San Francisco's Kyo-ya restaurant. As if taking in a beautiful sunset, Mother respectfully paused to study every aspect of the dish before picking up her chopsticks to eat.

When my first-generation Japanese parents visit me in San Francisco from the small rural town in Indiana where they live and I grew up, I show off the spoils of Bay Area living -- like the abundance of Japanese ingredients available just a bus ride away from my front doorstep and the confectionery store in Japantown that sells the freshest omanju with a light dusting of mochi flour -- just the way I like it.

This last visit I wanted to treat my mother to kaiseki, the multicourse Japanese dinner revered for its use of seasonal ingredients, spare portions and intricate presentation.

Mother taught me the fundamentals of this Japanese cuisine when, sparked by an air parcel from Japan, she would suddenly decide to prepare her version of a kaiseki feast at home. The parcel would be filled with ingredients hard to find in our Midwestern community -- like the dried gourd rind kanpyoo, essential to making good dashi (stock). She'd also be inspired by the purchase of fresh shrimp from the fish market in Cincinnati or a special harvest from her backyard garden.

Kaiseki's origins date back to the 16th century. Meaning "stone in the stomach," kaiseki referred to the practice of Zen priests of tucking hot stones wrapped in towels into the bosom of their kimono sashes. The heat was intended to ward off any hunger pangs during their morning and afternoon prayers. Later, kaiseki became a simple seasonal vegetarian meal served after the chanoyu, or tea ceremony. Today, it is considered an art form that observes the harmony between food and nature, and takes the diner on an odyssey of flavors, textures and colors.

A traditional kaiseki meal consists of a set sequence of courses based on preparation techniques. Pickled, raw, grilled and fried foods can all be included, in a certain order. Dishes focus on seasonal ingredients, and kaiseki chefs give zealous attention to presentation. At the kaiseki dinner at Kyo-ya, Mother placed her chopsticks gracefully back on the porcelain rest, and I could tell she was done with the first course. Seated at a quiet corner, Mother and I could see, but not hear, the hustle and bustle of New Montgomery Street. Art academy students lugging art supply kits and large, awkward portfolio cases crossed paths with tourists returning to the adjoining Sheraton Palace Hotel. But our immediate surroundings were serene, and here, in my mother's company, I recalled my first kaiseki dinner.

I was 13 years old and visiting Japan with my parents. We were staying at a ryokan, a traditional Japanese inn, in Hakone, several hours by train from Tokyo. It was mid-summer and the inn had no air-conditioning. Sandalwood fans and the occasional breeze offered some relief from the heat and humidity.

To keep cool, we wore loose blue and white yukatas, or cotton kimonos, after soaking in the hot spring baths. So rather than dressing to eat at a restaurant, we stayed in our yukatas in our tatami suite, where a kimono-clad waitress delivered cold appetizers, plates of grilled fish, and platters of sashimi and sushi.

I was struck by the beauty within each delicate covered porcelain dish of my first kaiseki meal. In one dish, poached mushrooms topped with herbs had been carefully stacked to resemble a shrub on a stony hill, and Mother exclaimed "ooh" and "ah" to the waitress before popping the morsels into her mouth. Such beauty and flavors deserved respect, and I knew that that dinner I shared with Mother in the Japanese countryside would leave an indelible impression.

Now, all these years later, we were being served kaiseki once more. Our meal at Kyo-ya, prepared by executive chef Kuni Oshikawa, commemorated Girl's Day, a holiday in Japan. Oshikawa enjoys experimenting with non-traditional ingredients, but adheres to the cardinal philosophies of traditional kaiseki. Like the acts of a play, each dish is a component that strikes high and low chords yet harmonizes to create the whole.

Our meal opened with otoshi, a vinegary appetizer of crunchy udo root blended with snowbeans, a gingerlike bit of zingiber root (myoga) and tender squid topped with a zesty plum and miso dressing. The second dish offered a tasting of three bite-size morsels -- a tiny fillet of jackfish and Japanese pepper leaf, which fulfills the mushimono, or steamed dish, requirement; a doll- size bundle of red radish, asparagus and minty shiso leaf drizzled with a dark miso and sake dressing; and a layered napa cabbage, salmon and shiso leaf appetizer.

Mother, who never acquired a taste for dairy products, raised an eyebrow at the tiny pat of cream cheese atop the cabbage. I found the combination delicious; she did, too, but without the cream cheese.

Miso soup and rice generally make up kaiseki's comforting late courses. But rather than serving a bowl of plain white rice, Oshikawa paid a last tribute to Girl's Day by preparing a finale of "pink and red" avocado maki wrapped in tuna and whitefish rather than the traditional nori.

I had intended for this kaiseki dinner to show my mother that even exotic ingredients are available in San Francisco, and act as a belated relief from the days when she had to prepare all her Japanese meals by hand or wait months for key vegetables to ripen. It did both those things, but it wound up meaning more to me than that. For me, kaiseki is more than the sum of pristine ingredients beautifully presented. I've experienced many memorable meals -- crisp Beijing duck in a local Chinese restaurant, an unforgettable platter of raw seafood in Paris -- but at this meal I was overcome with the same feeling of newness and awe felt by that 13 year-old at her first kaiseki dinner. Like a plum blossom or a dewy gingko leaf, the memories of kaiseki with Mother would linger long after the meal was over.

FIRST COURSE: Bamboo, shrimp and shellfish nestle in Japanese pepper and miso sauce. SECOND COURSE: Taranome vegetable, steamed sea urchin, wasabi eggplant, squid and sardines. THIRD COURSE: Sashimi of tuna, yellowtail and squid topped with tobiko. FOURTH COURSE: Spanish mackerel grilled in wasabi marinade with ginger sticks. FIFTH COURSE: Julienned vegetables and duck slices with strawberry vinaigrette. SIXTH COURSE: Salmon roe atop a Japanese pepper leaf and other dishes on this page were part of a recent kaiseki meal at Kyo-ya in San Francisco. DESSERT COURSE: Milk jelly with ogura anko and Japanese syrup.

CHEF OSHIKAWA'S DO'S AND DON'TS FOR KAISEKI

Kuni Oshikawa of Kyo-ya in San Francisco offers some tips for the first-time kaiseki diner who, particularly with the first impressive course, may be hesitant to dig in. -- Items in bowls that have dressings and a variety of garnishes should be mixed together so all the flavors are evenly distributed. -- Avoid using the soy sauce on the table. Each kaiseki dish is specially seasoned, and adding soy sauce will throw off the balance of flavors. Also, avoid adding it to dipping sauces that accompany the dish. Often the soy sauce used in the dipping sauce is of superior quality. Ask your waitress for more. -- Rice wine and mirin (sweet rice wine) are essential ingredients in kaiseki, making sake the natural accompaniment.

For the first course, order a premium sake. These are made from polished rice and generally are sweeter than other sakes. Follow with a drier sake for the remainder of the meal.

The sake of the moment is a milky-colored unfiltered rice wine that is delicious throughout the entire meal. Champagne and sparkling wines also complement kaiseki.

KAISEKI RESTAURANTS

The following are among Bay Area restaurants that serve kaiseki meals. -- Fuki Sushi, 4119 El Camino Real (near Page Mill Road), Palo Alto; (650) 494-9383. Reservations are required three days in advance; four-person minimum; prices start at $85 per person. -- Ichirin, 330 Mason St. (near O'Farrell), San Francisco; (415) 956-6085. Reservations are required two to three days in advance; prices range from $50-$100 per person, depending on the menu. -- Kyo-ya, 2 New Montgomery (in the Sheraton Palace hotel), San Francisco; (415) 512-1111. Reservations are required two days in advance; seven courses; prices start at $50 per person. -- Maki, 1825 Post St. (near Fillmore), San Francisco; (415) 921-5215. Reservations are required one week in advance; five to six courses; prices start at $50 per person. -- Sanraku, 704 Sutter St. (near Taylor), San Francisco; (415) 771-0803. Reservations are required one day in advance; seven courses; prices start at $42 per person. -- Tokyo Sukiyaki, 225 Jefferson (at Taylor), San Francisco; (415) 775-9030. Reservations are required two days in advance; two-person minimum; prices start at $40 per person.

NEW CONTRIBUTOR DEBUTS TODAY

Linda Furiya makes her Food section debut today with the accompanying story about kaiseki. Furiya, a free- lance writer living in San Francisco, was raised in a traditional Japanese home in Indiana, and has lived in Beijing and toured China extensively.

Furiya will contribute regular pieces to the East to West column about Japanese and Chinese cooking, joining longtime Chronicle contributor Mai Pham, a Sacramento restaurateur and author who writes about Vietnamese and Southeast Asian cuisine and traditions.

KOHAKU RED & WHITE APPETIZER

Red and white signify good luck and prosperity. This refreshing dish is served at special events or any celebration of one's good fortune.

INGREDIENTS:

INSTRUCTIONS: Soak julienned daikon and carrot in a bowl of cold water. Mix together rice vinegar, sugar and soy sauce in a bowl. Stir until sugar dissolves. Drain daikon and carrot. Blot dry with paper towels, then transfer vegetables to a bowl. Pour dressing over vegetables and toss to combine.

INSTRUCTIONS: Parboil the green beans in a large pot of rapidly boiling water for 45 seconds. Drain and immediately plunge into a bowl of ice water. Using a mortar and pestle, blend together the shiro miso, sesame seeds, sugar and soy sauce. Smash and mix until the sesame seeds are not visable when stirred. Drain the green beans and blot dry. Transfer to a bowl and fold in the dressing until the beans are evenly coated. Serve in small bowls and lightly sprinkle with sesame seeds. Serves 2.

VEGETABLES & DUCK WITH STRAWBERRY VINEGAR SAUCE

Zingiber (myoga), now in season, has a distinctive rosy hue and can be purchased at most Japanese grocery stores in the Bay Area. It should not be mistaken with its close cousin, young ginger (shin shoga).

INSTRUCTIONS: To prepare the duck: Cut the duck meat into quarters and saute over medium-high heat for 7 to 8 minutes, or until the skin turns brown. Transfer the duck meat to a colander and remove the fat by pouring hot water over the meat. Pat dry with paper towels. Mix together soy sauce, sugar and sake in a saucepan. Add duck and bring to a boil. Reduce heat to medium and cook for 5 minutes. Drain off liquid. Let duck meat cool. To prepare the strawberry vinegar sauce: Wash and hull the strawberries. Combine the rice vinegar, katsuo dashi sauce, sugar, light soy sauce and strawberries in a food processor; process until the mixture is smooth. (Yields about 1 1/2 cups.) The zingiber: Drop the zingiber buds into a pan of boiling water for 10 seconds. Drain and let cool. Mix together the water, sugar and rice vinegar. Add the cooled zingiber buds and let marinate for 30 minutes. To prepare the vegetables: Soak the julienned carrot, endive and cucumber in cold water for 10 minutes. Drain and air-dry or pat dry with paper towels. Presentation: Cut the duck into 2 x 1 x 1/2-inch slices. For each serving, spoon some of the Strawberry Vinegar Sauce on half of the dinner plate. Arrange 3 pieces of duck on the vinegar sauce. Garnish with julienned carrot, endive, cucumber and a zingiber bud. Serves 6. Note: Zingiber is a member of the ginger family, and a whole zingiber "root" has buds growing along its length.

PER SERVING: 130 calories, 15 g protein, 7 g carbohydrate, 5 g fat (2 g saturated), 58 mg cholesterol, 164 mg sodium, 1 g fiber. The calories and other nutrients absorbed from marinades vary and are difficult to estimate. Variables include the type of food, marinating time and amount of surface area. Therefore, the marinade is not included in this analysis.

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